


If I Seem a Little Distant (Ground Me)

by In_love_with_writing002



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cat-like behavior, Communication is Sexy, Fine I’ll do it myself, Geralt is cute, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, I need more wiggly Geralt in my life, Jaskier just wanted to read, M/M, Needy Geralt, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Subspace, bratty Geralt, dom/sub dynamics, obedience kink (kind of?), they’re in love, wiggles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_love_with_writing002/pseuds/In_love_with_writing002
Summary: “Well what do you usually do to focus again?” Jaskier asked.Geralt looked off to the side and then at Jaskier, his eyebrows lifted slightly.“Oh.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 54
Kudos: 295
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	If I Seem a Little Distant (Ground Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got the courage to finish and publish this fic! Even if I complained the entire time I wrote the ending, I’m still glad that it’s done. It’s also unedited, and I’m like 99% sure I repeated myself a lot so just like— Bear with me.
> 
> Enjoy your smut.

_ Slide. _

“Geralt.”

_ Slide. _

“Don’t you-”

_ Sliiiide. _

“ _ Geralt _ .”

_ Thud _ .

Jaskier sighed and looked up at his lover, hand still outstretched from where he pushed Jaskier’s empty tankard off the table. He had the smallest smile on his face, knowing that he’d bothered him. “Why did you do that?” Jaskier asked, closing his book.

“Hm,” Geralt replied, pulling his hand back to himself. Jaskier didn’t like the way he was eyeballing his empty plate.

“If you’re bored, go meditate. I’m trying to read.” He held up his book for added effect.

“Can’t,” Geralt replied, running a hand over the back of his neck before sticking it out. “Can’t concentrate.” He tapped idly on the edge of the table. Jaskier glared at him a little, until he eventually bent down and picked up the tankard.

“Well what do you usually do to focus again?” Jaskier asked. Geralt looked off to the side and then at Jaskier, his eyebrows lifted slightly. “Oh,” he breathed at the silent answer. Even without the vocal response for confirmation, he could understand what Geralt meant. “Well,” he sighed. “I suppose I could be distracted from reading long enough to—“ he didn’t finish what he was saying, Geralt already standing and walking towards their room. Jaskier looked down at the table— he’d left money behind for their meal and drinks— then back over at Geralt, who was subtly swinging his hips with each step, flashing a look over his shoulder at Jaskier before sliding into their room. Jaskier stood and walked after him, ignoring the looks from other people when they saw a human pursuing a Witcher.

If only they knew.

Jaskier stepped in the room to find Geralt already taking off his clothes, revealing gorgeous scarred skin and a toned physique. Jaskier stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him, throwing his book aside and feeling up his broad chest.

“You beautiful, amazing work of art,” Jaskier mumbled, kissing the back of his neck. Geralt sighed and leaned into the touch, and Jaskier could feel the barely contained excitement from him.

“Jaskier,” he said softly. Jaskier shoved lightly at his shoulder and he turned around, bending slightly to give him a kiss. Jaskier let him lead it at first, but there was a distinct lack of enthusiasm until he took over, sliding his hands into Geralt’s hair and pulling sharply. Then the kiss turned frantic, and Geralt was all silent eagerness to please.

Jaskier pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, watching Geralt’s eyes track the motion.

“What do you need?” Jaskier asked. “Shall I put you on your knees?” Geralt was greedy for the satisfaction of obeying every command and sank to the ground, maintaining eye contact. “Lovely,” Jaskier said, brushing a thumb over his jaw. It was so rare that Geralt allowed himself to indulge like this, to retreat into his vulnerable self and be mischievous and playful, Jaskier could feel a smile tugging on his lips, praising him with gentle touches and soft words of encouragement. “Why don’t you tell me why you pushed my drink off the table earlier? Or why you can’t meditate? Talk to me, Geralt.”

“I wanted you to be upset,” Geralt said. “So that you would-“ Geralt’s lips curled into a smile for a second, and he licked them before carefully pressing them back into a hard line. “I wanted to annoy you into-“ he broke off and  _ wiggled _ .

“I get it,” Jaskier replied, his brain suddenly not working. Gods, for all that he was a pain, Geralt could be so  _ cute. _ “You want to  _ misbehave,” _ Jaskier said. “So that I’ll teach you a lesson.” Geralt didn’t respond. “Well, I don’t think I can, in good conscience, punish behavior that I copy.” Geralt’s face was carefully neutral, though Jaskier thought he saw the faintest hint of disappointment. “But I do think you ought to be able to concentrate.” He unlaced his trousers and took them off, feeling Geralt’s eyes on him the whole time, stripping off his smallclothes and moving closer, pushing his hand through Geralt’s hair. There was tension in his body as his attention turned to Jaskier’s cock, and Jaskier brought his eyes away by tilting his head back and sliding his other hand under Geralt's chin, gentle as he began teasing at his lips with his thumb. Geralt’s eyes glazed over and his pupils expanded as he let his jaw fall slack. “Gods, how  _ gorgeous  _ are you?”

Geralt wiggled again, and Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat. Jaskier slipped his thumb inside his mouth and Geralt moaned, a lovely low sound that made his dick, still right by Geralt’s face, twitch with interest. Geralt grunted and started to turn, but Jaskier pulled his hair and started rubbing his tongue, and Geralt’s attention slid back towards his ministrations.

“You are a delight.” Jaskier smiled when Geralt groaned enthusiastically, withdrawing his thumb and replacing it with two of his fingers. Geralt looked like he could fall asleep. He continued petting Geralt’s tongue, pleased when he let his mouth fall open and tilted his head back a little to enjoy it. “That’s it, love,” Jaskier praised, watching every line of tension bleed out of Geralt’s body.

When he was satisfied, and Geralt was lazily sucking on Jaskier’s fingers, He forced his mouth open a little more and fed Geralt his cock. The Witcher’s eyes flew open but he remained relaxed, even when Jaskier took out his fingers and started moving Geralt’s head over it in a pantomime of fucking his mouth. Geralt seemed content to be used this way and closed his eyes again. Jaskier however, wanted a little more  _ active _ participation, and roughly thrust into his mouth once, watching Geralt’s eyes shoot open once more.

“Touch yourself,” Jaskier commanded. Geralt moaned around his dick, which sent a shiver down his spine, and he gasped a little. He looked down and saw Geralt’s hand moving at his side, nodding in satisfaction. “Do you want me to fuck your throat?” Jaskier asked. He brought Geralt’s head further down his cock. When Geralt moaned and tried to move further, he took it as a yes. Jaskier stopped moving Geralt’s head and instead grabbed it with both hands, rolling his hips and thrusting inside. Geralt’s free hand came up to Jaskier’s hip and rubbed it encouragingly, and he started thrusting in earnest. “You’re- perfect,” he said, each word punctuated by a thrust. Jaskier saw spit dripping down Geralt’s chin and making obscene sounds as he moved, pushing Jaskier to the edge. He slowed down just a little to ask a question. “Do you want me to come down your throat?”

Geralt gave a garbled reply, half a moan and half enthusiastic consent, his arm moving furiously at his side as Jaskier picked the pace back up, mouth closing tightly around his length.

“Beautiful,” Jaskier praised. “So good to me.” He felt a pull in his gut, a low tug, and gave in to the pleasure, the feel of Geralt’s tongue curling around him, his the way Geralt swallowed when he hit the back of his throat— Geralt was first, moaning as he came over his fist, riding it out and still, he was demanding, pulling him closer by the hip, squirming on his knees, made the  _ prettiest _ sight—

Geralt’s name fell from his lips on a moan as he came, Geralt’s eager mouth taking him and swallowing, some still dripping out of his mouth as he backed off, thrusting a few more times with just the head of his cock between his lips. Geralt tongued at his slit, sucking despite the overstimulation, and Jaskier’s head spun as Geralt gave him gentle attention, nipping the insides of his thighs, kissing up his softening length reverently.

“Geralt,” Jaskier muttered. Geralt paused and looked up. “That’s enough.” Any more and he’d be collapsing, and they still needed to check in with each other.

“Okay,” Geralt said, resting back on his heels. His voice was rough, and he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.

“Are you feeling better?” Jaskier asked, sitting down beside him. Geralt grunted in the affirmative. “Are you just saying that, or are you actually okay now?”

“I’m…” Jaskier could tell Geralt had started to say he was fine, but the Witcher looked at his hands. “I still…” Geralt held his hands up to his face. “Just a little longer,” he mumbled, barely audible. “I just want a  _ little longer. _ ”

Jaskier smiled lightly. “Alright.” He saw the way Geralt set his hands on his thighs, the tension and the clench of his fists, and reached out gently to touch Geralt’s face. “Lay down in my lap here,” he said, and Geralt moved with the gentle urging, leaning over so his head was on Jaskier’s thigh. He was silent but Jaskier could see the way the tension bled from his shoulders. “Is this good? Answer me with “Yes” or “there’s an issue.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Jaskier pushed his hand into Geralt’s hair, pulling the softest little sound from his throat as he arched into the contact. Jaskier repeated the motion, tangling his hair around his fingers and scratching blunt nails over the edges of his skull. Geralt turned his face into Jaskier’s thigh and groaned pleasantly. Jaskier sighed softly, propping himself on his other hand so he could focus on Geralt. He ran his nails over Geralt’s hairline while Geralt pressed his face against his skin. “So desperate for my attention,” Jaskier muttered. “It’s nice to see you letting go, Geralt.” He bent over and kissed his temple softly.

There was a gentle vibration against his thigh then, and Jaskier stopped petting him only for a moment to assess when he realized  _ Geralt _ was making the sound. He turned Geralt’s head just a little to face him and saw his eyes were as glassy as before, breath coming in rough pants, with just enough rumble to constitute a  _ purr. _

“You are wonderful,” he whispered to the Witcher, watching his pupils widen and his cheeks fill with color. Jaskier continued running his fingers through his hair, watching the way Geralt’s throat worked around the sounds he was making, the purr growing in volume as Jaskier touched him and gave him gentle praise. He allowed himself a few greedier touches when he started purring in earnest, hands skimming over his shoulders or down his back, curling briefly under his jaw and rubbing over his throat. It made his purr stutter in the cutest way, and Jaskier didn’t think he would ever be over the high sounds he made when Jaskier touched him in a place he particularly liked.

“There’s-“ Geralt started, rubbing his face insistently against Jaskier’s thigh. “There’s an issue,” his voice was still rough and thick with a purr.

“What’s the issue?” Jaskier asked.

“I can’t-“ Geralt opened his mouth a couple of times but no words came out. “ _ Jaskier,” _ he said, his frustration with himself filling the word. Jaskier took pity on him and sat up a little, rolling him onto his back. Geralt’s eyes looked wild and Jaskier still wasn’t sure what he wanted— then noticed that he was hard again.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Jaskier asked. Geralt nodded frantically. “So you want more of my touch?” More nods. “Do you want me to use my mouth?” A pause, then Geralt shook his head.

“Your voice is…” he stopped talking almost as soon as he started, but Jaskier understood.

“For something else, then,” he said, letting his voice drop into the low flirtatious pitch it tended to hit when he and Geralt did… whatever it was.

Jaskier gently moved Geralt’s head from his thigh and ran his fingers over his chest, which still rumbled with that affectionate sound. “Stunning,” Jaskier said reverently, leaning down to kiss his neck, letting his teeth dig into the muscle, appreciating the way Geralt groaned in response. He whispered more compliments into his skin as he worked his way down Geralt’s chest, hands smoothing over the wide expanse of his chest and stomach. Then Jaskier realized they were still laying on the floor— was about to suggest they move when Geralt let out another desperate little whine, wiggled, and Jaskier’s words shattered before they even found his tongue.  _ Adorable, _ his brain said instead.  _ He’s so fucking cute. _ “You deserve everything,” he mumbled against Geralt’s hip. “You can touch me too.”

Geralt’s hand flew to Jaskier’s hair, his other hand clenched tightly over Jaskier's own. Jaskier pressed a few more kisses onto his hip, clasping their fingers together. Then he used his free hand to wrap around Geralt’s cock, at which Geralt moaned and the purring increased in volume.

“I love when you‘re like this, Geralt,” Jaskier mumbled. “Needy, wanting, you’re so  _ lovely. _ ” Geralt arched his back into Jaskier’s grip. “I'm so grateful to you for trusting me. Letting me give this to you.” He dropped a kiss on his hip and he got a squeeze on their joined hands in response. “And I love watching you fall apart because of my touch and my voice,” Jaskier continued moving his mouth until he was moving back up Geralt’s chest. “You can’t see it, but you’re so pretty when you come, Geralt.”

Geralt  _ whined. _

Jaskier bit down in the Witcher’s collarbone, knowing that the bruise would be gone by morning, but for now he could appreciate the dark mark against his pale skin. Geralt appreciated it too, if the way he purred even louder and  _ writhed _ was any indication. He kissed the mark, moving his hand a little faster.

“Tell me,” Geralt muttered, barely discernible from the intensity of the rumble in his voice. “Say that you-” he choked on his words and pulled at his hair.

“I know,” Jaskier said, taking pity on him. “I love you, Geralt.”

Geralt turned his face towards him and his eyes were practically  _ sparkling _ with affection, their lips meeting for the briefest of kisses before he flushed even deeper. “And will you-”

“Shh,” Jaskier worked his hand a little faster, and Geralt shut his mouth. “I’ll always take care of you.”

Geralt’s eyes went glassy again, and he wriggled, pushing his hips up into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier bent down towards his ear, hearing his loud heartbeat, felt the building tension in his body, knew he was right on the edge, and only needed a small push-

“Because you’re  _ mine.” _

Geralt whimpered desperately, his cock twitching in Jaskier’s hand before he started coming, shaking and whining and squeezing Jaskier’s hand tight. He breathed heavily, panting as he came down, and Jaskier was fairly certain he saw tears bead at the corners of his eyes.

“ _ Ah,” _ Geralt sighed when he finally started coming down, the tension melting from his body, looking warm and pliant on the ground. Jaskier was planning on wrapping them up so tight they seemed like one being, but first he needed to clean Geralt up. He was messy, his hair mostly covering his face, the puddle of fluids on his stomach, his face a little snotty and damp.

“I need to clean you up, dear,” he whispered. Geralt nodded weakly, giving Jaskier’s hand a tired squeeze before letting him go. The purr had faded into a quiet rumble, calming as Jaskier walked to the washtub in their room and grabbed a rag. He returned and Geralt was still on the ground, splayed out on his back with his eyes closed. “Are you asleep?”

“Hmm,” Geralt responded. “No, I’m alright.” He turned his head towards Jaskier, and Jaskier was treated to Geralt smiling contently, looking soft and disheveled. “I don’t want to move.”

“That’s okay,” Jaskier said, running the cloth gently over his forehead and cheeks before kissing them respectively. “I’ll take care of you.” He rubbed off Geralt’s face with gentle motions while the Witcher closed his eyes again, sinking into the realms of sleep.

“You always do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Leave a comment if you really want to thank me ;)


End file.
